For
Luisa Chavez, a twenty-three year old former beauty queen, a better life has
always been just out of her reach. Sure, she’s had men at her feet since she
was a young teenager but she’s never had the one thing she’s craved – security.
Having grown up in near poverty, her waitressing job in Cabo San Lucas can
barely let her take care of herself, let alone her ailing parents. Every day is
another unwanted advance, every day is a struggle to survive.

When
Salvador Reyes, the depraved leader of a major Mexican cartel, takes an
interest in her, Luisa is presented with an opportunity she can’t afford to
pass up. She’ll become Salvador’s wife and exchange her freedom and body for a
life of riches – riches she can bestow upon her deserving parents. But Luisa
quickly finds out that even the finest wines and jewels can’t undo the ugliness
in her marriage, nor the never-ending violence that threatens her every move.

Soon,
Luisa is looking for an escape, a way out of the carefully controlled life
she’s leading. She finally gets her wish in the worst way possible.

As
it is, being the wife of Salvador makes her an ideal target for rival cartels
and there’s one particular man who needs Luisa as part of his cartel’s
expansion. One particular man whose quest for power has destroyed lives, slit
throats and gotten him out of an American prison. One particular man who will
stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.

That
man is Javier Bernal. And he wants Luisa. He wants to take her, keep her, ruin
her.

“Oh?” my
mother asked, her interest piqued by the foreign subject. “Who is he? Where did
you meet him? Do you like him?”

“I met him
at work,” I said, skirting the other questions and shoving a piece of stewed
tomato in my mouth. I chewed slowly, planning my words. “He took an interest in
me. He is very wealthy and has promised me the world.”

Her face
fell slightly. “I see.” She paused, pushing her plate away from her. “I am not
surprised, Luisa. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. I am only surprised
that this is the first man you have talked about to us.”

Here it
came. “That is because it is serious. He has asked to marry me.”

The room
stilled, choking on silence and the oppressive heat. My heart throbbed with
fear from just hearing those words out loud.

It was the
cold, hard truth; Salvador Reyes had asked me to marry him.

I couldn’t
read my mother’s expression at all. She was in shock, that was for sure, but
whether she was happy, sad, angry or suspicious, I didn’t know. Finally she
said, “When did this happen?”

“A few days
ago,” I told her. He had come into the bar every day, sometimes with David,
that creepy crony of his who always wore his shades inside. A few times,
though, it was just Salvador. I never had any doubt that there was an army of
people stationed all around, so we were never really alone, but it was during
those times that he would ask me to have dinner with him, even if I was in the
middle of the shift. At this point, Bruno knew who he was and what was going
on, and he had to allow me as many breaks as I wanted. Salvador controlled the
entire bar from the moment he stepped into it until the moment he left.

And he
controlled me.

The curious
thing, however, was that each day I grew more comfortable with his presence. It
wasn’t that I was less scared or intimidated by him. It was just that I got
used to the fear. The fear of Salvador, of what he wanted from me, of what he
would do next, became as soft and easy as my favorite blanket. And because he
was the scariest of them all, I no longer feared anyone else but him. Bruno, he
was nothing in comparison. My terrors
had become consolidated into one greasy, mustached man with a beer gut and bad
hair. A man who ruled such a violent part of the world and who would now rule
mine.

Because,
when he asked me the other day, when I had finished my shift early and he
insisted I walk down to the marina with him, I knew I had to say yes.

If I was
being honest with myself, there was a part of me that could have swooned at the
proposal. When Salvador got down on one knee and took my hand in his, his palms
sweaty, his fingers large and fat, I tricked my mind and heart into momentarily
believing that Salvador knew me, cared for me, loved me. Of course, he only
wanted me to look good at his side and that was it. Well, that and be in his
bed. What else could there be after just a few weeks?

So I said
yes and tried to believe I meant it. If I said no, I would be killed. There was
no doubt about that. No woman turned down Salvador Reyes, not for a date, not
for marriage.

“I will
treat you like a princess,” he had said to me, a stupid, lopsided grin on his
pockmarked face. “And you will have everything you ever wanted. You’ll be
richer than the President.”

And that’s
when I found the tiny shred of hope to cling to. By marrying the country’s most
notorious drug lord, a man who had politicians and police under his thumb, a
man with more money than he probably knew what to do with, I would be buying
myself safety from everyone but him, and I would be buying me and my parents a
life we would never get to experience otherwise. I would no longer have to work
for Bruno. I could have my mother and father taken care of and their every whim
catered to.

It was at
that thought that I was finally able to give Salvador a genuine smile. He
responded by kissing me for the first time, his mustache tickling my upper lip.
I wished it could have meant something to me, but all I could do was
concentrate on the two competing feelings in my chest: relief.

And dread.

“Did you say
yes?” my mother asked quietly, snapping me back to reality, to the kitchen
table with the one wobbly leg, to the overhead fan that did nothing to disperse
the hot air, to my father’s kind but desolate eyes as he stared curiously at my
mother, perhaps seeing her for the first time today.

I nodded and
dabbed at my mouth with the napkin. “I did. It is for the best, Mama, you will
see.”

She gave me
a funny look. “You act as if marriage is a bargain you have to make.” When I
didn’t say anything, she went on. “So what is the bargain here?”

“He has a
lot of money, I told you. He will take care of me and I can take proper care of
you.” I quickly reached across the table and put my hand on hers. “Mama,
please, this is a good thing.”

“Then why
can’t I hear it in your voice? You are anything but happy.”

“I am
happy,” I said. “I will be happy. In time. It’s all so new and…”

“And so who
is this man who you suddenly agreed to marry?”

“You don’t
really know him,” I said carefully. “But he has a lot of power and a lot of
influence.”

“And what
does he do?” she asked, her voice taking on a strange steely quality. She knew
that no wealth in our country came honestly.

There was
nothing for me to do but tell the truth. The truth would hurt her, but it would
also keep her safe.

“His name is
Salvador,” I said. “And he is in charge of a cartel.”

My mother’s
mouth dropped open while my father muttered the first words I’d heard from him
all evening. “Salvador Reyes,” he said, musing over it. “He is a bad, bad man.”
Of course he could forget his own wife and daughter sometimes, but a notorious
drug lord lived in every memory.

“Luisa,” she
said breathlessly. “You can’t be serious.”

I gave her a
tight smile. “Unfortunately, I am.”

“Salvador
Reyes. The Sal? The drug lord? The jackal?” She shook her head and folded her
hands in her lap. “No. No, I refuse to believe this.”

“But it is
the truth.”

“But why?
Why here? Why you?”

“I wish I
could say, Mama. I don’t know. He thinks I am beautiful and worthy of a better
life.” He thinks I am worthy of his bed.

She snorted
caustically. “A better life? Who does he think he is? Has he been here? We are
not living in squalor, Luisa. We have everything that we need right here.”

“No, we
don’t!” I yelled, surprised by the ferocity in my voice. “Every day I struggle
to get by, for you, for Papa. And it’s still not enough.”

She rubbed
her lips together, taken aback. I could see the wash of shame on her face and I
immediately regretted losing my temper.

“I’m sorry,”
I said quickly. “You know I’ve done everything to take care of the both of you
and I’ll do whatever I can to keep doing so. This is an opportunity —“

“This is a
death sentence,” she muttered.

Her words
sent cold waves down my spine. I swallowed hard. “No,” I said, though I didn’t
believe it myself. “He can protect me. I will go and live with him in a mansion
in Culiacán. I will be safe, safer than anyone in the country. And you will be
safe too. I will make sure that you and Papa are taken care of, you can live
with us on the compound or stay here, in some place really nice. I will do
whatever it takes. I am doing this for you.”

She just
shook her head, a few strands of her greying hair coming loose around her face.
“This is wrong. You deserve to marry a man for love, not money.”

“Maybe I can
learn to love him. Maybe he can learn to love me.”

Her mouth
twisted into a sad smile. “Oh, Luisa, I know you are not that naïve! He is a
drug lord. They do not know how to love a fellow human being. They only love
money and they only love death. He will never love you. He will have other
women on the side. You will never be able to leave. You will become a prisoner
of his life.”

Is it any different than being a prisoner
to this life? I thought to myself. I sighed.
“You know I have no choice. Whether I’ll love him or not, whether he’ll love me
or not, you know I can’t say no.”

“There are
always choices, my daughter. God gave you free will to make them.”

“Then I am
choosing to die later instead of dying now.”

I thought my
mother would admonish me for talking so fatalistically, but she understood.
There was nothing easy or right about this situation, so there was nothing left
for me to do but try and make the best of it.

“You deserve
so much more,” she finally said, staring at nothing.

I looked
pointedly at her and my father. “As do the both of you. And now, we shall have
more. Let’s just ignore the cost for now.”

She nodded
and went back to her food, picking aimlessly at the chicken that had grown
cold. Now that she knew of the weight on my shoulders, she didn’t have an
appetite either.

About the Author

With her USA Today Bestselling The Artists Trilogy published by Grand Central Publishing, numerous foreign publication deals, and self-publishing success with her Experiment in Terror series, Vancouver-born Karina Halle is a true example of the term “Hybrid Author.” Though her books showcase her love of all things dark, sexy and edgy, she’s a closet romantic at heart and strives to give her characters a HEA…whenever possible.Karina holds a screenwriting degree from Vancouver Film School and a Bachelor of Journalism from TRU. Her travel writing, music reviews/interviews and photography have appeared in publications such as Consequence of Sound, Mxdwn and GoNomad Travel Guides. She currently lives on an island on the coast of British Columbia where she’s preparing for the zombie apocalypse with her husband and rescue pup.

DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER
Chris' Book Blog Emporium claims no credit for any images linked to or on this site unless otherwise noted. Images on this blog are copyright to their respective owners. If there is an image appearing on this blog that belongs to you and do not wish for it appear on this site, please E-mail with a link to said image and it will be promptly removed.